Tizkmoudine means “a lot of water”. This very ancient Berber village, nestled at the foot of a spring which feeds a large palm grove, is now home to only one family. The others left a few kilometers away to look for electricity. Today, they return to maintain the ksar (fortified village) to bring it back to life.

The entire village is organized into a network of streets covered by wooden and earthen roofs. These shaded galleries, allowing air to pass through, are designed to protect residents from the sun and heat. It is possible to walk from one end of the village to the other even in the hottest hours. This centuries-old architecture is an example of mastery of thermal insulation.

In the labyrinth of empty streets, I think of those who lived here, born in one of these countless rooms made of stone and dirt. I imagine them covered in fabrics, walking, laughing, whispering, moving around in the light of candles..

The door of the old mosque remained open. The white lime vaults are covered in fine yellow dust. What a strange feeling to be alone here, in complete silence.